I Never Broke.
This is a poem about the persecution and murder of white farmers in South Africa and Zimbabwe, undertaken with the blessing and consent of the governments of those nations. A campaign of racial murder that the West ignores for fear of upsetting political correctness. I Never Broke. I never broke. Not even as their fists and kicks, Fell upon my face and body, Countless as drops of rain, Pour forth from furious clouds, And break the thirst of brittle earth. I never broke. As they screamed out their charges, And lists of made up crimes, I had never committed. My skin is guilty they said, And the punishment is death. I never broke. As they stood in a circle around me, Tying knots on a rope, Taking pictures on their phones, Whilst proudly singing songs of war. I never broke. As the sun rose through a sea of fire, An orb of ruby burning red, Scent of blood and jasmine on the breeze, And a dawn chorus of dying dogs.